


A Part of Your World-stepping over the threshold

by SprainedMyAnkleFlippingtheFirewall



Series: A Part of Your World (the Magnus Archives AU) [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Archivist Sasha James, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Christine Wachowska (oc's friend), Mike Crew flies around with a flamethrower bcs why not, Multi, Original Spiral Avatar - Freeform, Other, Simultaneous Archivists Sasha James and Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, all / relationships are rly background, bad puns with Chinese surnames written by a Chinese person, content warning at beginning of each chapter, fear avatars hanging out, focused on friendship, liberal interpretation of relationships very much welcome, some cats - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28961295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprainedMyAnkleFlippingtheFirewall/pseuds/SprainedMyAnkleFlippingtheFirewall
Summary: [2]What about that group of friends you thought you'd never meet, so comfortable and perfect that you can hardly believe your luck? What about the time you spend with them, getting to know them, overcoming the occasional friction and perhaps, becoming a part of them? What does it change about you, and what would it mean for who[what] you are?Of course, your old friends might object. But how tightly could you hope to hold onto the old, when the new light coming from the open doorway was shining right in your face?[summary of the entire series is in the notes before the first chapter]
Relationships: Agnes Montague ? Jude Perry, Annabelle & Agnes & Jon & Sasha & Mike & Jane & Spiral OC, Annabelle Cane & Sasha James, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Oliver & Jane solidarity, Oliver Banks/Michael "Mike" Crew, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Yes that's rly the tag that best describes it, everyone teases Jon solidarity
Series: A Part of Your World (the Magnus Archives AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124258
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	1. Initiation

**Author's Note:**

> Notes for the entire series, skip if you've seen it before:  
> AU where a bunch of fear avatars are friends who casually go on ritual-stopping missions on the weekend, explored from the perspective of a chaotic Spiral/Web aligned protag. It has become common knowledge that the rituals can't succeed individually and the avatars have to figure out a way to coexist now, yay!! Focused on world buildings and how diff characters play off each other. 
> 
> This work explores the tma universe from the perspective of a self-insert character. I tried my best to design the oc as a full character that could play off certain aspects of the canon characters and the AU world in general. This part in particular focuses on the interaction between different avatars. I have a huge kink for 'canon divergence but all characters retain their original personalities', and tried my best to write as such, though of course how much I succeeded is for the readers to say.  
> Oh yes, and I do suggest reading part 1 first if you haven't as it deals with certain things that will become important as the series progresses.
> 
> I know that this kind of fic is probably not what most people are looking for when they come to the tma tag, but I hope that if you feel interested in the idea that you can give it a chance. I really enjoy discussing tma world building/avatar stuff in general and would love to hear your thoughts if you want to comment on anything.
> 
> Finally, this part of the series was definitely my favorite to write, hope you enjoy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the protag’s nice afternoon with a friend is cut short by a run-in with a gang of avatars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter, but a small note: In this fic it will never be specified where ‘the city’ actually is due to the author’s complete lack of knowledge of anywhere in Europe or America and unwillingness to situate the story in her own home of Beijing. Place names will be avoided as much as possible, and I apologize beforehand if this makes the story feel strange at certain points.

It was a windy overcast afternoon when Ryan made her way into the city center to meet Christine. These days, her friend’s company was more appreciated than ever, and the time they spent taking walks without a clear destination was always a blessing. Christine was a professional actor who traversed the realms of driven procrastination and inspired creativity with a chaoticness that Ryan had no choice but to respect and, unsurprisingly, one of the closer acquaintances she had maintained after college. 

“So, where shall we go this time?”

Christine shrugged, turning her head to glance at the nearby streets,

“I’m fine with anything. I did see pictures of a flower shop that’s opened up….somewhere around here, but the address wasn’t included in the post. We could just wander around, hope that we find it.”

“Sounds wonderful. Oh wait- was it...it’s not the one with a blue ribbon hanging off the door handle is it?”

“Yes, I think so, what, you know it?”

Ryan thought for a moment, she did in fact know the place from having passed it on several previous trips into the city center, 

“Yea I remember seeing it, it’s along this way.”

“Hang on, since when did you become so keen on getting around?” Christine laughed as they headed down along one of the streets,

“I know you’ve been outdoors a lot more than before, but that place was opened, what, three days ago?”

“Nah, I just got lucky. I’m...naturally attracted to places of beauty.”

“Try Ryan GPS today, guaranteed to locate places of beauty~”

A drizzle had begun by the time they were halfway along their walk, but thankfully not enough of a hindrance to cut the trip short. Soon, the odor of traffic was joined by the scent of wet soil and plant life, liberated by the steady downpour, and the shops were filling with people who had neglected to carry an umbrella. The two friends paid the rain no mind, continuing their conversation.

The sky was a thick foamy gray, its appearance more forbidding than the actual amount of rain it was sending down. As she listened to Christine’s elaborate description of her latest casting role, Ryan glanced upwards and at their surroundings, glad for the odd solitude that a street of people with their faces half covered could create. Christine’s presence was soft and warm against her senses, as all around them, the other people seemed to melt into the background, their far more alien presence blurred by the falling raindrops. 

They were no more than two blocks away from their destination when she noticed it. The feeling of something wrong that in the absence of everyone else, only stood out sharper. 

Ryan stopped walking and reached for Christine’s arm.

“I swear, one of the scenes is gonna have me hang from, like, five stories off the ground and I’m still not sure how I’m going to manage that-”

“Wait, hang on a sec.”

“?”

Silence fell as her friend looked at her in confusion. Ryan turned her full attention on what was undeniably the aura of a member of the Hunt, no more than three streets away and getting closer.

It shouldn’t have been possible, she had made _absolutely sure_ that they would be outside of the weekend territory of those avatars. A member that had left its designated area, perhaps? 

“Um, I’m sorry, I’ll explain later, we have to leave….for a bit, just….along this way...”

“What? What’s going on?”

With no choice but to ignore Christine’s increasingly panicked questions, Ryan attempted to guide their direction back to a larger street with more people. It had also picked up pace, and she could feel the blood beginning to pound as the situation gradually slipped into the aesthetics of the Hunt. There was no doubt that it was here specifically for her, though for what reason she hadn’t the faintest idea.

A second examination told Ryan that they had run out of time to reach a busier area (and that might not even be much help if their pursuer was determined enough), in a desperate attempt to get somewhere with at least a wider space, she led them down an adjacent and slightly larger street. It was completely empty, somewhat to her relief. She did not know if she had the energy to hide any random passerby as well as herself and Christine. 

“Ryan, Ryan! What is going on?” 

“Shh, please, trust me for now, just...trust me, I need you to stay behind me.”

In the silence that followed, nothing could be heard but their soft panting from having half run some 500 meters, the steady beat of the raindrops, and a zipper sliding open as Ryan pulled her backpack up to her chest and stuck her left hand inside. She faced the north end of the street.

The avatar’s presence arrived before the sound of its footsteps could reach them.

It was a small Caucasian woman, dressed in a jogger’s outfit. A normal passerby in the eyes of anyone who did not know the reason behind those extremely flexible and easily washable clothes.

Slowly, she advanced, eyes alight with a dull flame.

From behind her, Ryan felt Christine freeze.

With a pace to match their attacker, Ryan carefully extracted a tranquilizer gun from her bag, and pointed it straight at the woman’s head. She could feel the Hunter’s aura clearer than ever now, reaching across to her and filling up the entire street. The blood, the hunger and anticipation, the final step before the kill. It seeped into every fold of her consciousness, and she drank it in. Pushing her focus onto the narrative she had just taken, Ryan channeled it along the posture of her arm and the raised gun, easing it gently back towards the woman, caressing the edges of her mind and slowly pushing inwards, all the while trying her best not to let her own fear interfere with its progress. 

The Hunter stopped roughly ten meters away, looking in confusion up and down what appeared to be an empty street. Ryan held so still that she dared not breathe. She was impossibly grateful for the rain that may have dulled their scent, but she knew that a single movement or noise could give them away at any moment (invisibility is much harder to pull off when there is no physical cover at all).

The two parties stood like statues, facing each other, and Ryan hoped, prayed, that the Hunter could feel their presence, her narrative, pressing back on her. She thought she could see it in her eyes. The Hunter was thinking, calculating the situation. Was this sudden unseen threat that her target had apparently transformed into dangerous enough for her to give up the chase?

After what seemed like an eternity, a brief flash of fear crossed the woman’s face. Abruptly, she turned on her heel and walked away. 

Ryan held the gun and the hallucination on her until her entire presence had disappeared back into the rain. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright now, she’s gone.”

She stuck the gun into her pocket and turned to see Christine staring back, 

“Ryan….what...what was that?” her voice was shaking slightly, and she was shivering, as if she had suddenly noticed just how chilly the water that had soaked into her coat was.

“Um, I can explain, this, the gun is legal in case you’re wondering...um, she, she was....oh god” head still pounding from the interaction, Ryan felt her heart sink as the distinct presence of something she knew very well came from the opposite end of the road. _As if the situation couldn’t get any worse._

“Ryan! Sorry to bother, did you see where the Hunt avatar went?”

“Hey....Annabelle, um, I think down north, that way,” trying her best to ignore the three figures who had stepped into the street, an all too familiar face at their lead, Ryan turned to Christine,

“I’m sorry, I think I might need you to go for now-” 

“What?”

“There’s something I have to deal with, please, I need you to trust me on this, I promise I’ll explain it all to you next time-” Ryan lowered her voice, trying to guide the two of them away from the new arrivals,

“Ryan.” To her surprise Christine now seemed more worried for her than alarmed by the events so far. She reached for her hand and squeezed it tight.

“I do trust you, I just need- are you alright?” Then, quieter, “Do you need me to call the police?”

“No, don’t worry about that, it’s not that serious. I’m going to be fine, just, gotta deal with...some stuff. I can handle it, don’t worry.” 

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it...for now, text me when you get home.” Christine bit her lip, the concern still etched all over her face as she turned to throw a final glance over her shoulder. 

Ryan tried for the most reassuring smile she could manage. 

“Alright,”

After her friend’s figure had properly disappeared from sight, Ryan turned to face the trio.

They had come to a stop a few steps away. The avatar of the Web was busy with a text, behind her stood a man with black hair down to his shoulders, carrying a large umbrella over himself and Annabelle and looking slightly embarrassed (though that did nothing to lessen the discomfort his gaze brought on), and next to them, a woman Ryan had recognized at first glance (and the primary reason she got Christine to leave in such a hurry).

When Annabelle had mentioned the others that she had connections to, Ryan could never have guessed that this included _Agnes Montague_ , the alleged Messiah of the Desolation’s cult, but there she was, looking distinctly normal in a T-shirt and jeans, all except for the way the raindrops evaporated as they hit her body.

“Sorry to interrupt, we mean you no harm.” the man said

“That’s...that’s- what are you guys doing...” unsure whether to end the question on ‘together’ or ‘here’, Ryan let her voice trail off.

“There were a couple Hunt avatars gone outside of their territory, we were investigating their movement.” Annabelle said, “Alright, I’ve texted Sasha, they’ll be ready up north.” 

Tucking her phone in the pocket of her dress, she smiled warmly at Ryan,

“Yes, sorry to interrupt your afternoon, really, we didn’t know you’d be around here” her tone was sincere.

“Jonathan Sims, Beholding avatar, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, and Agnes, who I’m sure you’ve already heard of.”

Annabelle turned to the others,

“This is Ryan Hu, avatar of the Spiral with Web alignment.”

Jon, the Archivist, raised his eyebrows at this information. It was a small movement, but Ryan caught it.

“You have human friends?” Agnes asked, her tone curious yet her expression strangely detached,

“Yes.” _Who I forced to leave because of you guys._

Annabelle continued,

“We were planning to grab dinner together after the job, you’re welcome too, if you’d like to come.”

“Um, I-”

“It’s totally fine if you don’t feel like it, I understand.”

Admittedly, Ryan was still apprehensive about joining a group of avatars for any kind of gathering, and quite salty at her time with Christine being interrupted like this. But ever since it had been brought up, the thought of meeting these people had not left her mind. In the past months she had made no attempt to satisfy that curiosity in case it led her into something she did not like, but now that the opportunity was right here in front of her…

_Might as well._

“No, it’s-I’d like to come, it’s all a bit sudden, that’s all.”

“It’s alright. It’ll be worth your time, I promise.”

“Do you need an umbrella?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Their entire presence was surprisingly casual. The trio did not take particular notice of her, nor keep their voices hushed when talking to each other, and it felt as if she had naturally become a part of them. At first, Ryan kept a short distance behind, just enough so that they still walked together, but she could get a good look at the three of them without her gaze being too obvious (and to maintain a fair distance from Agnes Montague of course).

Annabelle and Jon had jumped into a discussion, apparently about the case with the Hunt members, and when her eyes rested on the Archivist’s figure he turned in the middle of a sentence to glance back at her. Their eyes met and again there was that discomfort. His gaze was at once extremely clinical and yet very...intimate. It wasn’t at all defensive or aggressive, but it was clearly intended as an answer to her own gaze. A second later he had turned back to Annabelle, who appeared not to have taken notice. 

Soon, the rain thinned, before the clouds finally gave up their hold over the sky.

Agnes was mostly silent, absentmindedly glancing at her surroundings. A short while into the journey, however, she surprised Ryan by dropping behind the other two and initiating a conversation,

“That was quite impressive, what you did with the Hunter.”

“Oh, no, it’s just, it was pretty lucky, I just threw her own aesthetics back at her, I wasn’t even sure it was going to work.”

“It did though, must have been pretty disconcerting for her to have the tables turned like that.”

“Well they weren’t actually turned, they just...”

“Felt like it, yes.”

The smile was apparent in her voice, and Ryan looked up to meet Agnes’ eyes before quickly turning away again, mildly embarrassed. 

“Um, so, you guys are an avatar organization, right?”

“Not really, we’re more of a random friend group. I’m sure Annabelle will explain in more detail after dinner.”

In front of the restaurant, they met up with what looked like the rest of the group-another Archivist, judging from the way her gaze felt, a man with a very impressive scar down his neck, and a woman dressed in a beautiful red shawl who were introduced as Sasha, Mike and Jane. Ryan, Mike and the two Archivists were the only people who ordered, but it was enough to pass off the group’s appearance as normal customers.

It was the first time Ryan had felt the presence of so many different entities in the same place, and it was all quite overwhelming, but as with the trio before, they paid her no more attention than a friendly curiosity. Her own presence was accepted and incorporated into the group with ease. 

The Vast avatar, Mike Crew, was the only one who seemed slightly bothered by the new arrival, his eyes cold and unusually distant in the few times he looked at her. For the most part, Ryan engaged the others and tried her best not to be bothered by his discomfort. She admitted that being in such close proximity to a Corruption avatar did also make her feel uncomfortable (it had taken focus to stop herself from looking at the parts of Jane’s skin that was not covered by the shawl), but the feeling was easy enough to overcome as she watched the others interact with Jane completely at ease.

As the afternoon carried on, and conversation at the table continued in its casual banter, she began at last to relax.

Annabelle and Jon were continuing their business conversation from earlier while Agnes and Mike engaged in their own chat and Jane listened in with a polite attentiveness (she thought she caught a name. Jude? Or something), but there was never a distinct boundary between the conversations. All of it felt...extremely comfortable.

In particular, Sasha seemed intrigued by this new ‘Spiral avatar’, as Annabelle had introduced, and had soon dug up a bunch of details concerning the writer’s previous misadventures. None of this required any Eye related power of course, as Ryan was all too eager to share. She was vaguely aware that the others were also listening in, but by that point she was feeling comfortable enough to enjoy their attention instead of feeling pressured by it

“Wait, so you used the Lietner for a rant therapy?” 

“Yea, I suppose. Well, one that I didn’t fully consent to, but to be fair the ‘book’ didn’t consent to it either.”

On her part, Ryan took the chance to put through a few questions,

“I’ve always wondered, how exactly do your powers work? Is it like, you can just make people answer questions about anything?”

Sasha’s eyes twinkled as she replied,

“Not just that, if we take a full statement, it’s pretty much like pulling an entire ready-formed story, complete with perfect pacing and wonderfully detailed environment descriptions.”

“Like, fully formed creative writing pieces? Wow, I mean, you’re making me jealous of your victims I swear.” 

“Oh don’t be, it’s pretty bad having to relive that trauma in such detail, and it’ll potentially remain in their nightmares afterwards. That’s why we-- I, tend to take a lot of care in how I’m feeding it.” Sasha’s expression had turned slightly serious, and Ryan knew it was a bit early to be covering the topic of how they fed.

“Right, right, of course, but seriously though, if I’m desperate and trapped in a period of writer’s block I’d be happy to give away all my darkest secrets if it means I get a good story out of it.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Sasha laughed, and pulled out a card from her coat pocket, sliding it across the desk,

“I actually have a thing that does stuff like this. It doesn’t have to be your darker memories specifically, but I offer to help with people who need inspiration for their creative work, with my questions and all that. It could be stuff about your past, memories you haven’t fully explored, anything you consent to. I can set you up for a session if you’d like. Jon also helps out sometimes when he’s not too busy in the archives.”

“What? Seriously? That is....wow...” Ryan turned the card over,

_Best Regards. The program to go to for breaking through that creative block. Make your statement, face your deadline._

“That is honestly amazing.”

It was nearing the end of the night. Ryan had barely even noticed the time passing so quickly until Annabelle turned her attention back to her initial question for Agnes, though how the weaver had heard it she had no idea.

“So, I do believe it’s time we properly introduced ourselves.” 

The others fell silent while Mike and Agnes continued their chat in slightly lowered voices, and Annabelle turned to address Ryan,

“Agnes was right, we’re not technically an organization of any kind, most of the time it’s simply that hanging out in a group of people like you feels nice. The Magnus Institute is slightly more serious about matters such as avatars who stray outside of their predetermined boundaries, or especially destructive rituals, and sometimes we help out with that. It’s no obligation though, and of course it doesn’t pay, it’s mostly whenever we feel doing like it.”

“So, you are certainly welcome to join, if you wish to. There are much more of us out there who don’t bother with stuff like this. You can consider us… an available option if you ever want to chill over the weekend and carry out a mission while you’re at it.”

Ryan nodded, trying her best to stop herself from smiling too obviously,

“That sounds nice. I’ll...um, how can I contact you guys? Oh yea, I have your number, right right.”

At the sound of her reply, Mike glanced over briefly, an eyebrow raised, but Ryan was too wrapped up in the moment to take notice.

She did not recall what had flown behind that gaze until they had all bid each other good night, and she was about to leave when Mike came over to her. 

“Hi, Ryan, is it? Do you mind if we have a couple words alone?”

//

//  
Brief Index of all character appearances in case anyone wishes to search for specific parts

Chapter Index  
Part 1. the door-chaotic protag stumbles into becoming an avatar through some work and a lot of luck  
Chapter 1. Enjoy Sky Blue  
Simon Fairchild, Mikeale Salesa, Gerry Kaey  
Chapter 2. A Commission  
Michael  
Chapter 3. Weaver  
Annabelle Cane

Part 2. stepping over the threshold-the protag becomes part of a group of random avatars in the city  
Chapter 4. Initiation  
Annabelle Cane, Jonathan Sims, Agnes Montague, Sasha James, Mike Crew, Jane Prentiss, (previous characters will later be referred to as 'the team'), the oc’s actress friend Christine Wachowska  
Chapter 5  
Mike Crew, Christine  
Chapter 6. Missions and Chill  
Annabelle Cane, Jonathan Sims, Agnes Montague, Mike Crew, Jane Prentiss, Oliver Banks, some Cats (capitalized because Cats Are Important)  
Chapter 7. “One of Us”  
Christine, Jane, the other members of the team (briefly), Michael  
Chapter 8. Perspective  
Anges, Mike, Annabelle

Part 3. the view from beyond-the protag dispels a few threats in various extreme ways  
Chapter 9. Fire  
The team, Brandon Douglas (an oc Desolation avatar bcs I didn’t want to use anyone from the canon for this role), Mustermann (briefly mentioned)  
Chapter 10. Water  
Oliver, Brandon  
Chapter 11  
The team ('s feeding habits)  
Chapter 12. Up High  
The team, Simon, Gerry, Michael, a bunch of other people whose names weren’t mentioned but who are present (it’s a party after all)  
Chapter 13. Safety Precautions  
Simon, Christine  
Chapter 14. Exhibitionist and Voyeur  
Jon, Sasha, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood (briefly)

Part 4. ???-this part and its appearances will not be summarized because doing so would give away the plot, I might decide to update it later on  
Chapter 15. The Little Thief  
Chapter 16. Identity  
Chapter 17. The Narrator  
Chapter 18. The Lynch Mob  
Chapter 19. The Game Continues  
Chapter 20. The Lynch Mob 2  
Chapter 21. In the Silence After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do I have your number? Oh right from that text you sent me when you blackmailed me into going to your house to see if you should maybe kill me. You know, just how people typically make acquaintances around here. 
> 
> Also, I am so bad at coming up punny names for Sasha’s program, if anyone has any flashes of insight I would love to hear them xD.  
> Credits for the program idea goes to my friend Katherine Hu (Whose last name I also took).
> 
> Finally, a small note: The Chinese surname Hu is not actually pronounced like ‘Who’, but when trying to come up with a surname for Ryan this bad pun was way too good to pass over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some small amount of action I couldn’t fit into the last chapter. Yes I am very good at planning my plot as you can see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: vertigo

The sky was a deep navy blue when the two of them walked to the patch of grass behind the restaurant, a few clumps of cloud barely visible against its dark palette. 

The scene was quite beautiful, but there was no time for taking it in. Whatever it was Mike wanted, Ryan knew it was nothing good, and she’d rather get it over with as quickly as possible.

It was surprisingly quiet back there. Under the soft orange glow that came through the back windows, the scar on Mike’s face seemed alight with its own shade of bright, stinging cyan. It lay there, going all the way down his neck and on display right out in the open. Ryan tried her best not to stare at the stunning fractaled patterns. 

“It’s funny, you’ve clearly been marked by the Vast before.”

He said, his forcibly quiet tone the only warning she received before the ground fell from under her feet. 

The sensation was different-much much worse than what had happened on that glass platform, and so much worse than just falling. Perhaps it was the element of surprise that did it, that feeling when you miss a step and somehow manage to miss the entire staircase and  _ down  _ you go _.  _

Through the howling wind and her own panicked thoughts, Mike’s voice somehow came through with a clarity, and whatever part of her mind that could still think grasped onto his words.

“Now, I don’t know how you managed to escape. We don’t like playing around with our victims like some of the others do. But those tricks of yours aren't going to work on me.”

She was staring straight into his eyes now, the only thing she could cling to as he narrated to her, but it was far from enough to actually pull herself out of the situation. Obviously taking note of this attempt, he took a step forward.

“You could try. But I would suggest not, if you and I are to coexist in peace.”

Abruptly, she was back on that piece of ground, shaking and barely aware of the tears that had blurred her vision. 

When she was calm enough to stand again, Mike was gone.

//

Annabelle: I’ve added you into our text group chat. We’re planning on a trip to the south side of the city on Wednesday, there’s been a sudden increase with Corruption activity in that area that Jon wanted to take a look at. 

Ryan: Is Mike coming?

Annabelle: He hasn’t replied yet, why?

Ryan: I’m not sure that he would be happy to see me.

Annabelle: What happened? Are you alright?

Ryan: Yes, yes I am. But I don’t think he likes me very much.

Annabelle: Don’t worry about that, it’s nothing personal. He does not have a good history with the Spiral. I’m sure he won’t really mind if you choose to come along.

Ryan: ok, I’ll think about it.

//

//

Christine: r u back yet

Ryan: Yes, I’m home, sorry I forgot to text earlier!

Christine: that’s fine, as long as you’re okay.

Ryan: When do you have time next week? I’ll make up for the trip to the shop. 

Ryan: I can’t do Wednesday, any other time is fine.

Christine: How about Tuesday afternoon? You owe me a hell of an explanation.

Ryan: No problem, it’ll be good, I promise.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this bit- Damn Mike seems a bit harsh  
> Thinking back to his statement about what the Spiral did to him- yea...alright


	3. Missions and Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the first bunch of really hard to write fight scenes occur. Featuring the team’s adventures to a Corrupted apartment complex and a game of mafia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: bugs and birds. Did not have a fun time researching “which bugs are most active in moist spaces and what hour of day are they least active”. Seriously, google, can’t you keep the images out of my face when all I’m looking for is the text.

“It’s not really that big of a deal, which is to say that nothing has happened yet,” Jon explained as the group (minus Jane and Sasha, who had their own stuff) boarded the bus, speaking in between yawns. The hour was early enough that they almost had the entire thing to themselves. 

“But the size of the potentially affected area has grown and is beginning to cluster.”

“Yep. Typical Corruption.” Annabelle said, and Ryan, half asleep, nodded in agreement. Obviously, there wasn’t any sort of overarching governing structure for the avatars, but in sight of the fact that working together produced the best results for most of them, several agreements had been struck up to ensure their coexistence in the city. This had become especially relevant after the last archivist’s death, and it had been confirmed that individual rituals could not succeed. 

The Hunt (and some members of the Slaughter, though it mostly fed in places outside the city) have specific ‘hunting grounds’ that they agree to keep inside and which other avatars could avoid if they so please. For people of any other entity, the only ‘rule’ was that specific areas dedicated to the same entity must be spread apart. Cluster, and the power that forms there could cause trouble for everyone else, not to mention risk giving away more proof of their world. As with the current rate of technological advancement, most avatars valued their general inconspicuousness from the human world. 

“It shouldn’t be much trouble. Just gotta check out a couple buildings and see if we find any traces of a specific organization that’s planning something. Of course, it could just as likely be a mindless formulation. Anyhow we should be done in two hours.”

“Still time to get some sleep after we return I hope.” Ryan said,

It was currently four a.m. Experience had proved that the Hive was generally weakest in the early morning before the sun came up.

“Will we be expecting any aggressive behavior?” Annabelle asked, reaching over to shake a fully asleep Mike Crew awake as the bus arrived at their stop,

“I can’t see anything right now, judging by the humidity it’s probably centipede or roaches. I say we’re good to stick to the usual plan.” 

“The usual plan” was going in from seperate directions, and the team split up into two groups that balanced their abilities best. In this case, it was Mike, Annabelle and Jon heading in from the east of the complex (armed with an assortment of fire inducing chemicals and gadgets) and Agnes and Ryan from the west (most of the time anyone who stayed with Agnes could stay completely safe while pretty much doing nothing). Ryan had brought her tranquilizer gun and the usual assortment of substances, more out of habit than anything. She figured that the flamethrower Annabelle had given her would come in much more use.

The air seemed to grow visibly stale as they entered the complex, as if it had forgotten how to flow, the change so subtle that for a moment Ryan was unsure whether it read as a shift in the aura or as a physical change. The two seemed to blend into each other in a way that made her very uncomfortable. 

“Seeing anything strange?” Annabelle’s voice came from over the com, unnaturally loud in the absolute silence of their environment. 

“Nothing out in the open. There’s graffiti on the walls but nothing that looks like a recurring symbol or code. Paint looks pretty old.” Agnes replied from a clearing at the center of the ring of buildings.

“Record them anyway.” Jon’s voice.

“Sure thing.”

“Don’t know what you expect to find in these random swear words.” Mike said, sounding like he was way too used to this kind of thing but still not able to resist a comment.

“You never know. I still remember the time those random open and shut windows turned out to be a morse code.”

“Yea, calling out whoever decoded the thing as a colossal nerd.”

“It could have been something else, a message-”

“Alright alright you two, focus.”

The west side of the entire complex seemed to be completely devoid of human activity. Most of the balconies were empty, and through the windows they could see that there were no rooms on the inside. They looked more like abandoned multistoried car parks than anything resembling apartment buildings. Ryan tried not to think of what had happened to the people there. 

“Nervous?” Agnes’ voice came from a few steps behind,

“Not really, but it’s probably because I don’t know what to expect.” Ryan replied, momentarily switching off her mic.

“Did Annabelle not tell you?”

“She said I’d get the hang of it as we went along.”

“Yea, I can see why. None of us are 100 percent sure what to expect from going into these either.” 

“But I know I’ll be safe with you.” 

“Hm, get ready for the smell.”

At Annabelle’s instructions, the team turned to make a quick round of the insides as well. 

“Don’t stay for too long, the construction itself is quite stable and there isn’t anything clearly alive from what I can See but best be careful.”

“Right.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s anything from our end, just more graffiti.”

“Same here.”

“Jon, are you sensing anything else now that we’re inside?”

“...Nope.”

“…....”

“Wait-Mike, behind you!”

“Christ-”

From the other end came the sound of what was obviously Michael Crew launching into the air, and then a mess of footsteps as the other team rushed to exterminate whatever had snuck up on him. 

“It’s fine, I got them.” Mike was panting slightly, a burst of rushing air coming from his end of the com and then the distinct sound of the flamethrower being unleashed,

“Careful, get back!”

A rustling sound from somewhere behind the stairway that led up to the third floor pulled Ryan’s attention back to what was happening on her end. She turned to look at Agnes, but she was tracing a finger over the walls on the opposite side and had apparently not heard.

When Ryan turned back her heart almost jumped from her throat. In front of the stairs stood a small boy, his stepping out from the shadows quiet enough to have escaped her ears. His clothes were torn and his skin was covered in deep holes that in the dim light of early morning were, thankfully, not as jarring as they could have been.

Instinctively, she grasped onto the handle of her own weapon (Annabelle had told her enough to guarantee she knew how to use it), stepping back. His eyes were blank and completely dark, but as she caught his gaze she was stung by a sudden sense of...sorrow. She stared into them, grasping for that fleeting sign of emotion if only to make sure she had not imagined it, confusion and shock fueling her search. 

In the following seconds as she stood immobile with her hand on the trigger of the flamethrower, a cockroach eased its way out of his mouth. It wasn’t alone.

“Don’t deliberate.” 

Agnes was in front of Ryan before she had the chance to react, her voice calm without a hint of accusation, yet strongly at odds with how fast she moved, and in a flash the thing that had begun its transformation into a swarming pile of roaches was up in flames. A few charged their way through the air at her face before falling in cinders as in front of them and the body let out a scream that seemed to come from a thousand voices, merging into each other and drawn together to form that ear splitting sound. The smell was incredible.

Before the body had even stopped moving, heavy footsteps began to sound from up on the third floor. Ryan hardly got a look at what were coming down the stairs before their bodies joined the pyre.

“Come on let’s go!”

Agnes called, and the two turned on their heel, charging towards the path that led back to the first floor and into fresh air.

Down the steps and into the clearing they ran.

Behind them came a heavy sickening buzzing and Ryan did not need to turn to know that several others had emerged from the space between the buildings.

“We’ve gotten what we came for! Don’t engage, just, head towards the north exit, we’ll meet you there!” Jon addressed the two in a half yell, probably also retreating from something that was on his end

The sound was getting closer, and the Messiah of the Lightless Flame turned to finish off their pursuers when Ryan called out,

“Wait, I got this-” 

Agnes paused for a moment, but did not ask for an explanation before nodding her agreement. She moved to the stand behind Ryan, giving her a clear view of their attackers as she raised her arm up towards the sky.

At first the three pursuers thought nothing of this movement, nor of the small Asian girl who had suddenly turned to face them. But soon a new sound had arrived on the scene. That gentle  _ whoosh  _ that the air makes when it passes through a flapping wing, increasing in number until it was no longer gentle and far from being a single sound.

Their many eyes watched in confusion as from the windows along either side, and over the top of the buildings, a flurry of black feathers began to emerge. A flock of ravens, all of their heads turned in perfect sync to gaze at the three pursuers, who slowed in their tracks. 

There was a moment of perfect silence as the birds stood still, their beady eyes locked on the group down below, before all at once, the flock lifted off and descended upon them. 

Each stayed for no longer than a second’s time, enough to tear off a piece of the Corruption avatars’ body with its impossibly sharp claws or teeth but there must have been more than a hundred of them, appearing from up and the roof and from behind those windows and whatever other space was logically possible for birds to emerge from, a new head appearing in the space the last bird had taken off from, until the sky was filled with the sound of their cries. As the three fell back and desperately tried to wave off the onslaught, they were vaguely aware that it just wasn’t  _ possible _ ,  _ it can’t be real _ , there were no birds inside of those buildings, none in the surrounding sky, but the realization only served to make the pain more alarming.

From between the endless wave of crows they could see the girl who held the flamethrower stood at ease in the middle of the storm, the weapon hanging by her side. Her eyes somehow stood out clear among the swirl of movement, gaze rooted onto where they stood, staring into the display with a hunger. 

“Guys, over here!” The others had arrived on the scene as the Corruption avatars turned to leave ( _ physically unharmed, but that didn’t really matter did it _ ). 

For their part the east group also looked none the worse for wear, the only indication a fight had taken place being Mike, who still hovered above the ground with a slightly disgusted look on his face. 

By now the entire place was silent once again, and all that was left of the hallucination was an explosion of black feathers, making their way gently to the ground.

“Wow, fancy.”

Ryan brushed one out of her hair, not quite able to contain a smile at Annabelle’s comment. She cast a quick glance at Mike, but his expression showed no visible antipathy.

“Alfred Hitchcock?” Annabelle asked, watching as the feather disappeared in a flash of black spirals.

“Uh, yea.  _ The Birds _ .”

“Thought the cinematography looked familiar.”

“So, we done?” Mike turned to Annabelle, 

After a brief discussion during which it was settled that they did not need Agnes to burn the entire place down just yet, the group left for a collective breakfast, with Mike refusing to touch the ground until they were properly outside of the apartment complex and Ryan secretly glad that she had looped  _ The Birds _ four times the day before coming. 

  
  


(partial) Notes on the Corruption affected complex in the south of the city, the Archivist recording

_ “Who did you see?” _

Agnes-“Four of them. A boy, a woman, two men.”

Ryan-“Um, there was a small boy. I think. That’s the only one I remember clearly.”

_ “What did they looked like?” _

Agnes-“Yes. The boy was Caucasian. Short black hair, about 16. One of the men was also white, blonde hair, in his mid twenties. The woman and the other man were south Asian. Both looked pretty old, maybe 60 or even older. Would you like me to describe anything else? I’ll see what I remember.”

Ryan-“Um, he was short. Around 14? 16? From the way he dressed, he looked like he was from a wealthy family. Once. I can’t really remember the others, sorry.”

  
  


Ryan decided to skip the next ‘trip’ the team took, but agreed to join them on Sunday for an afternoon of tabletop games. 

The man whose apartment Annabelle had conveniently borrowed to use as their club house was introduced as Oliver Banks, avatar of the End. But this fact did not register much as Ryan came in contact with the apartment’s other residents.

“Wait, you have a cat?”

She followed the furry creature into the next room and was shocked to find-

“You have catS??? In the plural?” 

The cats had an agreement among them to generally avoid the two of their owner’s friends that reeked of dirt and fire, and keep a respectful distance from the one with spiders all over her. The one who smelled of ozone and the other two were mostly acceptable. Soon, they decided to avoid the endless advances of the new arrival as well (more out of annoyance than caution).

“So, Mafia or Among Us?”

Mafia: 4 votes

Among Us: 3 votes

Among Us IRL: 1 suggestion from a certain bored Desolation avatar and rejected by the owner of the apartment

(Mafia IRL, 1 suggestion from a chaotic Spiral/Web avatar and rejected by herself before her mouth could put it out there)

“Okay, so Seven people. No one use their powers during the game, obviously. Who’s gonna be the moderator this time, Jon or Sasha?” 

“Jon, obviously, he’s not as good as I am at keeping his Eyes in check during gameplay.”

“I am not, that was only a one time accident-”

“(silence as everyone who had been there ‘that one time’ stared at Jon)”

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll be moderator.”

Mafia itself turned out to be chaotic enough. 

The gang sat/ sprawled in a lopsided circle on the livingroom floor, the ones who could still ingest human food stocking up with snacks and Ryan still attempting to stock up with Oliver’s cats. 

Annabelle and Sasha were ruthless, maintaining a high visibility during every single round, not bothering to hide their emotions, but never giving away enough that you could know whether to trust them or whoever they were accusing. Mike and Jane stayed mostly quiet but sometimes piped up with surprisingly detailed observations. The others for their part tried their best to process the situation. (Agnes, unsurprisingly, had her attention distracted by something else every few seconds.)

“Oh my God I knew it. I knew it.” Sasha began laughing as soon as the final reveal was given. 

“And yet you still lynched me.” Mike, the (dead) detective for this round, rolled his eyes,

“Killed by the town’s folk whom I was trying to protect.”

“I did think you might be telling the truth but I couldn’t have known.”

“Oh come on you guys the one who accused me was  _ Annabelle. _ ”

“To be fair there was a 50/50 chance she was telling the truth.”

“Yes. To be fair there was a 50/50 chance  _ I  _ was telling the truth.”

“Wait so who was the other Mafia?” Agnes asked, glancing around, 

“Oliver.” Jon replied from his place in the middle.

“Go team.” Annabelle leaned across the circle to high five Oliver, who said,

“This doesn’t excuse you using my house whenever you feel like hanging out” 

“Aww don’t be like that, I know you love our company.”

“Oliver? Damn, I had a feeling it was you.” Ryan said,

“Just wait till I get the hang of this thing.” 

“Sounds like someone’s been using their powers during gameplay.” Sasha leaned over into her shoulder, laughing.

“What no- that doesn’t, if this counts then Annabelle and I would have to stay mute.”

“Won’t make it any less likely that I win.” Annabelle winked,

“Round two?”

“Best of luck to whoever the detective is.” Oliver smiled. 

Late into the night they stayed (minus Sasha, who had an early morning the day after), chatting with one another after the games had worn off their appeal.

Someone had put  _ Coraline  _ on around the time the takeout arrived, but no one was really paying attention to the TV.

“Guys, it’s been confirmed, the Unknowing is going to take place sometime around the next month.” Annabelle informed the group from where she lay cross-legged on the floor, flipping through her phone.

“That’s slightly sooner than I expected.” Jon said, dropping his previous conversation with Mike as Oliver and Jane terminated their extremely chill heated debate on some aspect of divination practice. All of the group’s attention was on Annabelle now.

“I still don’t know if we can trust the informant we have on the Circus.” Mike muttered,

“I will trust him until it proves unhelpful to do so.” Annabelle replied.

“I...agree, for now, he seems, alright.” Jon added,

“Guys, sorry to interrupt, wh-what is the Unknowing?” Ryan asked, suddenly wide awake at the serious turn the conversation had taken,

“The Stranger’s ritual.” Agnes said, her eyes on the TV, watching as Coraline made her way through the tunnel for the third time.

Surprisingly, rituals had been the part of this world Ryan had the most trouble finding information on, considering how destructive they could be. All she knew about them was a vague idea of who might conduct them. After the last Archivist’s death, it had become unspoken knowledge that a world scale change could not be possible for anyone, but that didn’t stop the avatars who wanted to wreak havoc from attempting all kinds of ‘local’ rituals, the scale of which were still big enough to affect an entire city, and which took significantly less effort than a bigger ritual. She had an inkling that the lack of information on what these rituals actually did meant someone was out there deliberately covering them up.

“I really don’t know what it is with the Circus folk. I mean, it’s not like a lot of the other avatars care that much about these things.” Jane said,

“They like the attention, they like the show.” Ryan spoke without thinking, startled by how she found this quite relatable on a certain level,

“It’s true that most avatars don’t really care, I mean, I don’t think doing a ritual has crossed the mind of any Vast avatar I’ve ever met.” Mike said,

“The Fairchilds are kinda like their own cult though.” Jane said, to which Mike huffed,

“The End’s pretty chill too, hell it doesn’t even need to do anything, nor the Web.” Mike turned to Oliver, who shrugged,

“Makes me jealous sometimes, you don’t even have to actively sacrifice people to it.” 

“But what about those Desolation fanatics though? Or the Dark...people, they seem very reluctant to accept the idea that a full scale ritual can’t succeed.” Jane continued.

“Well let them try. They won’t succeed. A bit sad really, they won’t get their new world, and those in their local area who want peace and quiet won’t get it. So, what do you guys think about this Stranger ritual?” Annabelle pulled the conversation back to track,

“Anyone up for going in? You could come too, if you want.” She looked over to Oliver, who shook his head with a smile.

“It is going to affect the entire city if it succeeds right?” Mike asked,

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess I’d like to avoid that, but I won’t have time if it’s as soon as next month.”

“Leaving to get some variety?” Agnes asked, to which Mike shrugged in lieu of a reply.

Soon, most all of the others had agreed to put their effort in.

“Um, I’d like to help out, but it sounds a lot more serious than what I’ve done with you guys...I’m not sure if I should come.” Ryan said. She still hadn’t told anyone about what had happened with the Corruption avatar in front of the stairway some four days ago, but the incident had not left her mind. Yes, it had only been four days ago...it was a bit strange that she was now fully up for going in to stop an entire ritual with these people, but somehow...it felt right.

“Oh no, it’s totally fine if you came, we won’t be doing any direct fighting. We only need to do our part in delaying the thing, besides, we’re far from the only people who want it to fail.” Annabelle explained,

“Yes, I’m sure the Hunters will be more than happy to blow the place up at the last second.” Jon said.

‘The Hunters’. The way Jon said it seemed rather odd. The word felt heavier than just in reference to avatars of the Hunt, and Ryan was reminded of when she had heard Gerry Keay mention it in a similar tone.

“Right, so what will we be doing?”

“Stealing their costumes.” Agnes replied, watching intently as Coraline raced to return to the real world with the Beldam on her tail.

“Ryan, are you trying to seduce my cats by making yourself smell like catnip?”

“Oh, um, would it be better if I also looked like a cat?”

“......”

“I can make you think I look like a cat, here it’s easy-”

“Oh spare me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I got their voices, at least a bit. Writing a lot of characters interacting was harder than I expected. I had lots of fun writing this chapter though, it was sort of my ‘comfort chapter’ for the entire work and I think back to it when I’m bored.  
> And yes, the morse code window thing was probably another Eye avatar messing with their own bcs they know Beholding ppl can’t help but want to decode it xD


	4. "One of Us"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the protag ponders the meaning of the chapter title after two welcome encounters and one unwelcome encounter, not in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of ptsd

Tuesday, the afternoon before Ryan would need to haul ass at 4 in the morning to attend her first mission of sorts. Christine sat across from her at their table for two as she tried to explain what had happened in the alleyway. After a great amount of deliberation the night before, she had decided at last not to tell her the whole truth. 

“So, it’s like a cult...thing?”

“Basically, yes. But it’s just a bit of investigation for something I’m writing, it’s not a- I’m obviously not planning on joining or making any more contact than I need to.”

“Okay, okay.” her friend nodded, and Ryan could feel that something was wrong. She tried to find words to polish the narrative over with, but without knowing what the problem was it was hard to put on the appropriate performance.  _ Was the story not believable enough? Surely this wasn’t too far from what she could typically get up to.  _

After an awkward few seconds, Christine spoke again,

“I do trust you...it’s just that, you’ve changed your habits quite a bit, I don’t know if you’ve noticed. I’m assuming it’s related to um, this cult deal? You didn’t use to go out a lot, and you’ve never dressed in colors like that...I thought it was just a phase but it’s been what, a couple months now? I-look, I know I’m rambling, and these are all small things, and you have the right to choose whatever you do, but...Just, be careful, okay? It just seems like you’re deeper in than you’ve noticed...” she trailed off. Her words were sincere, Ryan could feel that, but there was a distance when she said the words ‘be careful’ that wasn’t there the last time, like a thin film of glass had been drawn between the two of them.

Ryan reached forwards and took her hand. She did not shake it off,

“Christine, I’m still myself, aren’t I?”

Her friend smiled at that, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she answered, as if she was trying to convince herself,

“You are.”

Trying her best to ignore how  _ good  _ the confusion tasted, Ryan suppressed a shudder and quickly wheeled the conversation away to lighter subjects.

Later that night, Ryan removed one of her old notebooks from the shelf where she kept everything she’d ever written by hand, and read through it carefully, searching for any significant difference in her stories since her engagement with the entities. She also got out the copy of the commission she’d written for Michael some four months ago. 

There was no such change as her friend had suggested, at least nothing fundamental. Her older work was cringe to look at (as always), but there she was within them. If anything, coming to those entities had made her feel more like herself. She had room to be ‘crazy’ or ‘irrational’ without facing judgement, and a way to utilize her sensitivity. A natural process, the perfect development. The writing showed no sign that she was now a distinctly different person.

Unsure how to feel about this, Ryan stashed the notes away and turned on  _ The Birds _ for the fourth and final time.

That night, her nightmares were filled with feathers. Terribly sharp claws and beaks were tearing into Christine’s flesh, and Ryan wanted to run forwards and shoo them away, but could only stand immobile somewhere far away and too close at the same time, eyes wide as she drank in the confusion and fear.

Tuesday the following week, she joined the squad for a casual walk. 

Over the past few trips, as she had gotten more accustomed to their personalities, Ryan was feeling more at ease among them. It had been a long time since she hung out with such a large friend group and it pulled from her the kind of melodrama she had not felt since college. 

Though she was still quite new, Ryan had quickly become one of the chattiest members of the group, and in turn they exploited this for entertainment when no-one else felt like talking. Occasionally, they would even get her to tell stories, complete with any corresponding aesthetic she could pull off. Even ‘those tricks of yours aren't going to work on me’ Mike did not seem put off by these displays. 

On that particular day, Ryan was in an argument with Annabelle about the ending of Emergency in  _ Jesus’s Son _ when the whole group abruptly stopped in their tracks, their eyes on someone who stood on the opposite side of the road,

“Look, it’s obvious they did not make it to Vietnam, I think the tone of the entire chapter set that up pretty well.”

“That’s not what matters in the narrative though, it’s not about whether they made it-” 

abruptly aware of the change in atmosphere, Ryan clapped a hand over her mouth and looked over to where they were staring.

At first, it didn’t even register which one of the absolutely normal passersby the group was looking at. She sensed no presence of any entity from anyone. She looked around to the others in confusion, and barely stifled a gasp.

Jane was staring across the street as if there was something terrifying that she could not look away from. A shudder passed through her body and she clutched her arms to her sides, momentarily closing her eyes, as if trying hard to suppress...something, and Ryan saw a hint of movement underneath the surface of her skin. Some of the others had turned to her as well.

“One of her old acquaintances. They’ve got a complicated history, but I’ll just say that they are related to why Jane sought out the Corruption.” Sasha’s voice was soft as it spoke directly inside Ryan’s head what she could not say aloud.

“Come on. We can take a different route.” Annabelle reached out a hand to touch Jane’s shoulder.

“No. There’s no need.” Jane’s voice was steady. It did not sound strained, or exaggerated, but quite casual. The avatar of the Flesh Hive stood perfectly still, her face calm again. Something had hardened behind her eyes, the strength of which only suggested to Ryan the amount of pain it had once seen through. 

For a moment she wanted for all her heart to reach out as well, and felt mildly embarrassed that she could not do so (the memory of that writhing movement under Jane’s skin was keeping her hand firmly by her side). 

The group continued on their way across the street with Ryan slightly quieter than before.

That afternoon she was sat alone in her apartment when an all too familiar creaking noise came from behind her. 

“Michael.” She spun around to address the tale blonde figure who had stepped into her living room, the same way it had done when it had appeared to collect the commission.

It shut the door behind it, and walked over to place a plastic zip bag on her desk.

“Is it what you asked for?” It said with a smile,

“Um, yes. Th-thank you so much.” Ryan picked up the bag and held the syringes up to the light. She contemplated asking it not to suddenly appear in her house in the future, but thought that seemed a bit rude considering it was here to her request,

“I...I’m still not sure why you agreed to it to be honest.” When she’d asked for the Distortion’s help in procuring the chemicals she wanted for her tranquilizer gun, it had been intended as a joke, but to her surprise he had said yes.

“I wanted to help. Quite frankly this is all very interesting, the psychedelics, the sulfuric acid.” He laughed, winding his hands together in front of his chest.

“I...I do need some things for more direct physical protection.”

“True, a plausible motive for an avatar like yourself.”

“I thought I was a thief.”

“You are, yes. It is not uncommon that a thief finds their way into becoming part of the house, or that a thief was actually a resident all along.” It smiled sweetly. Ryan looked away, but this only invited it to advance, until it was leaning directly over her chair.

“Something on your mind?”

_ Yes, your very troubling understanding of personal space. _

“Um, I… sorry if this is taking up your time, I do have something I’d like to talk about.” She wasn’t actually sorry. It had probably come here precisely for this moment, having sensed her inner turmoil.  _ A late night snack for the Distortion. _

“Go ahead, time is of no relevance to me.”

“I-it feels so strange. Like, so...easy. The others, most of them from what I’ve heard, ended up becoming avatars because of some kind of traumatic experience, or straight up had no choice, or were originally victims of the entities as well, and I....I bought a tapestry and a wrote over a book and somehow...here I am, and I don’t even feel any different from who I was before, like, it’s all so easy, so natural….I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

“Ooh, an identity crisis.” It clapped its hands together, 

“I do agree that you were always particularly fitting for the Spiral, even if it did require you to get tangled up in some  _ cobwebs _ , but if you think serving an entity is  _ easy _ .” The laughter rang out, before stopping abruptly as Michael waved it away,

“But that does not matter. You and I both know whether becoming an avatar is  _ objectively  _ easy does not matter.”

Slowly, it placed a finger on the underside of her chin, lifting her face,

“Why don’t you want it to be easy?” It asked.

There was a moment of silence as Ryan sat frozen in place, feeling the tingle of static where the knife-like finger came in contact with her skin as she stared into the spiral of colors inside those pupils.

“If ‘becoming’ is easy for you, isn’t that a wonderful thing? You do seem pretty content hanging out with those little avatar friends of yours, in being a part of all this.”

She did not respond.

“You have been feeding properly?” Michael pulled his hand away, changing the subject.

“Yes I have been.” She had been. So far, the trips into the city paid off quite nicely, and she had no trouble finding her fill.

“Good.” It stepped back, from behind, the door swung open again, 

“I do hope that conversation proves to be enlightening.” The laughter was quiet this time.

Ryan blinked, and she was alone again.

She thought of Christine’s eyes, the taste of her confusion, as Annabelle’s voice sounded in her mind, clear as if she could taste each syllable. 

“This is Ryan Hu, avatar of the Spiral with Web alignment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some random musings-  
> I thought it would be more realistic if Jane still struggled with her past, although she's mostly over it. The Corruption is not an easy thing (and some would say impossible) to balance with a healthy mindset. But then again, no-one really has a healthy mindset, we're all plagued by some problem or other to different extents.   
> And yes, for anyone who's watched it, Jane's situation was in part inspired by Sayaka's character development in the Madoka series.


	5. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team turn out to be genuinely amazing people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: vast related experiences, trauma related to being silenced/shamed for high levels of sensitivity

When Ryan first detected the presence during her morning walk the following Friday, it came as such a surprise that it was almost gone by the time she decided to give chase.

A Corruption avatar, one of the pursuers she had scared off with the poorly done Hitchcock tribute, two blocks westward.

Hastily, she drained her cup of overpriced coffee and left the store. 

It was morning, the sky was a bright blue with little to no cover, the kind of strong sunshine weather that she did not find enjoyable, but it did nothing to slow her pace.

She was already within a few steps of the figure when it occurred to her that she did not have a clear reason for her pursuit. What did she wish to do? Find that trace of sorrow in its eyes that she had seen in the boy’s? Talk to it? 

It was a woman in her late thirties. As Ryan approached she turned, and the two faced each other in silence in the narrow alleyway. Ryan stared into her impassive eyes, searching for that hint of emotion, feeling her own face go red in embarrassment. The silence was beyond awkward, but she had no idea what to say to her. 

A raised voice sounded from behind her, making her jump,

“Ryan, get back!”

She spun around and stared in shock as Agnes and Mike made their way into the entrance of the alleyway. Had they followed her? Were they hunting down the woman as well?

The images of the last mission crossed her mind, the slight lift of Agnes’ hand as the boy went up in flames, and a creeping sense of defiance settled in Ryan’s chest. 

“You were following me?”

“We saw you-let’s talk later, come on, it’s dangerous.” 

Ryan did not move. From behind she felt the woman leave. The three of them were now alone in the alleyway.

“Look, I know what you saw that day with the boy, but it’s not what you think. There isn’t a way to reach her anymore.”

Agnes’s words were as matter of fact as always, but at their prompting memories returned of those sickly smiles, the people she thought she could trust and their verdict that she was always too sensitive, overthinking it, but she could feel the boy’s eyes again and a strange flame was burning in her chest.  _ I knew it. I knew it had to happen. I knew we wouldn’t be able to… _

“No. No.” Ryan said, taking a step forward so that she was close enough to feel the temperature radiating from the Messiah’s skin. Agnes looked surprised but did not step back. Ryan ignored the heat, looking directly into her eyes,

“You don’t understand.”  _ I can make you understand. I can make you feel it. Do you want to feel it?  _   
Before she had realized what was happening Agnes was raising a hand to her head, and from behind her Mike had stepped back with a look of surprise.

It was Ryan’s turn to back away, a hand held to her own face in shock. 

“Oh...oh God, did...did I just? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”  _ show you what I had seen. _

She glanced nervously at the two of them (mostly at Mike), bracing herself for their reaction. 

“It’s just that...I felt a connection with him, th-the boy, it didn’t seem like he was all gone- I mean, look at Jane.”

As she orientated herself again, Agnes was calm, and to Ryan’s surprise, so was Mike, though his face was as unexpressive as ever.

“No, it’s okay. I see now.” Agnes smiled,

“You do have a point. There are things that you experience in higher intensity than others can detect. But trust me when I say that...I know enough from experience to tell when they are too far gone to be any more than a danger to us. Jane was different. She had help, and even then it wasn’t easy.” 

Ryan could only nod, still very much surprised at how the overall situation was turning out.

“Well....sensitivity sucks sometimes.” she said, quiet again.

“Yes. But it can show aspects of the truth that cannot be otherwise seen. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Agnes gestured towards the exit of the alleyway.

“Wait, so you guys really weren’t following me?”

“No, we haven’t got the time for that. We were meeting with an old friend in the area when we saw you running after that woman and thought it best to follow. We wanted to make sure you were safe, that’s all.” 

“Yea, sorry again.”

“That’s okay. You know you can tell us about this kind of stuff, we’ll try our best to work it out together.”

“Yea. Alright.” Ryan returned the smile.

Throughout the exchange, Mike was silent, but in his eyes were a strange curiosity that seemed a tad bit warmer than his usual distance.

The weekend before Mike left to allegedly ‘get some variety’, he invited Ryan over to an after dinner walk via text message.

_ I’ve heard Annabelle say you like to collect different aesthetics, I could show you a bit of the Vast, if you’d like. _

(This was not exactly a secret but she had never actually told Annabelle about it either. But that was the way with the Weaver, seeming to be very mindful of the tiniest details.)

Yes, that would be wonderful, where do you want to meet?

The meeting spot was one of the largest open spaces that lay on the outskirts of the city, and it was not without some trepidation that Ryan left via subway to keep the invitation. She had a distinct feeling that he meant no harm, but some part of her brain that listened to good old fashioned logic instead of intuition could not help but think that it was a chance to get revenge for what she had pushed into his head in the alleyway.

Mike was there early, waiting for her in the middle of the wide open clearing. The nearest buildings were a fair distance away, their lights the only things that could be seen. A few street lamps did their best to illuminate their surroundings but around them and above them everything was mostly shrouded by darkness. The sky was a blank canvas of endlessness, mostly black with the faintest tinge of blue if you looked at it right, and off in the distance, the red and white of the horizon from where the night had not yet taken over- his favorite type, and only visible at this specific time of day. 

7:15 pm. He watched as Ryan made her way over. She was, unsurprisingly, precisely on time, in a way that was strangely deliberate yet not uncomfortable. Was it the way he had specified the meeting time in the text? Did that cue her in on how he thought about punctuality? During their limited time together, he had already noticed that she was highly attuned to these details, always quick to intuit what was implied (or even what was not) by those around her and to match her actions to accommodate, as if there were no boundary between their wishes and her own. 

It was nothing like he had expected in a Spiral avatar, and while her manner was loud and dramatic, it was also soft and extremely easy to engage. Maybe that is why he had decided, out of sheer curiosity, to take her here, and perhaps, to talk. He knew that whether they stayed silent throughout, or talked about whatever he wished, she would not mind.

There she was now, standing with her arms crossed, not really bothering to hide her nervousness, yet her eyes keenly taking in his figure, his expression and stance, no doubt reflexively checking every detail of her own ‘performance’.

“Um, hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.” Ryan said, feeling like something was needed to fill up the silence. Mike Crew was dressed in more tightly fitted clothing than usual, his posture completely at ease. Unfortunately, seeing him within his own element only set her more on edge. 

“So, how exactly is this going to work?”

“Nothing too complicated, we’ll be roughly 500 meters off the ground, straight up from where we are now.” He said matter of factly. 

“Okay.”

“How are you with heights? Not great I assume from what experience you must have had.”

“Yea, well, it’s- I used to like high places, but that was more of a childhood...edgy period where being reckless was considered cool and all that. And I do like getting away from the din of normality and all that mess, sometimes, but...” _ vertigo has never been central to the appeal _ .

“Yea.” She shrugged,

“Huh, allow me to say I am not surprised.”

Mike reached out a hand,

“Come on then.” Excitement all but radiated from his figure, and she wanted for one last chance to ask if she could trust him, or to say...something else to put off the inevitable moment, but as she looked into his eyes and drank the eagerness from them, all deliberation was forgotten.

She took his hand, and bit down a scream as the ground fell away below her. 

This was no mere mindfuckery as he had done before, they were actually flying upwards, the city lights falling away. Up and up into darkness they went, the wind whipping all around her. Trying her best to keep her eyes open, Ryan clung to his hand, suddenly aware of how impossibly small she was against the expanse of the night sky and the universe beyond. 

“Don’t forget to breathe.” His voice was clearly heard through the pounding of her own heart and she did so. They seemed to be floating now, remaining relatively still with nothing to support. Tentatively, she looked down. A large patch of darkness with a few scattered spots of neon light, and in the distance, the sprawling city streets. It was like something you’d see out the window of an airplane the few minutes before it landed, only you were literally outside the window.

Mike’s hand moved in hers, a small movement, suggesting its wish to be free of the grasp. Her eyes snapped back to his face. He was smiling slightly. The scar had begun to glow again, a beautiful light blue. 

“Please don’t drop me.” She said, barely able to hold her voice steady, but with a stubborn effort that took all of her willpower, she slid her hand away from his.

In an instant, Ryan was all alone within the embrace of the Vast. Gasping again, she folded her arms around her, trying her best to calm herself and balance the desire to get a proper look at her surroundings or to shut her eyes tight. She was vaguely aware that Mike had flown some distance away before diving back, slowly circling her figure in an almost playful manner. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, gliding to a spot on the same altitude as her,

“Um, it’s-oh god-it’s worse than I thought it would be.” She tried, and failed, to unclasp her arms from around her chest.

He laughed, a light cheerful sound,

“You’re handling it much better than most people I’ve seen. It’s not something you get the hang of at once.”

_ Most people you’ve seen...your victims you mean. _

“Yea, I wouldn't take the credit for that though, it's so interesting how a narrative can shape the experience, when ur being randomly thrown into the sky by some random stranger, feels so much different from when you're up here with...with a friend, although the physical parts of the experience itself is the same. I... I don't mean to discredit the physical parts, just... it's interesting how our perceptions are shaped by much more than that.” She was rambling, but at least her voice was somewhat steadier now, and he did not seem to mind the exposition.

They floated like this in silence for a while. As she watched his casual movement through the air, more enjoying himself than taking much notice of her, Ryan found that she did in fact have it in her to stretch out her body, just a little.

“Does it ever get tiring? Sensing all the stuff you do.” his voice floated down from some place above,

“Yea. A lot of the time. I’m actually quite jealous of you guys’ aesthetic you know. Just...being somewhere that can see everything without needing to interact with them.” she carefully adjusted her figure so she was floating flat on her back, gazing up at him.

“Why the Spiral, then?” 

“The chaotic creativeness of it I suppose. I’ve always been into engaging with stories, hallucinations or some kind of narrative. The emotions they bring me, that serotonin shot, I love it. Live for it.”

“It’s funny, you remind me of someone else I know. In a strange sort of way.”   
“Also an avatar?”

“Of the Vast. Simon Fairchild.”

“Wait...an old man? Tall...blonde, caucasian?”

“Yes. You know him?”

“Tried to ye-throw, me off a bridge once.”

“Ahh, sounds like him.”

“You, er, you guys are friends?”

“I’m not close with the Fairchilds. We’ve met on occasion.”

“What, um, what reminds you of him? In me?”

“You’re both very sensitive people. You both centre the emotional experience. He’s all about having fun, feeling pleasure, for himself of course. You take all emotions, pain, pleasure, experienced by anyone, and view them all as highly valuable.”

“So you’re saying that we’re both, what, hopeless romantics?”

“I suppose so. And you did find your way to the entity you serve rather easily, like he did.”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t care a lot you are very perceptive.”

“Haha, is this because I beat you in that round of Mafia.”

“Well, yes, but also in general. I guess.”

“Hm. It’s true I suppose. I prefer not to engage...doesn’t mean I cannot see. And I daresay the perspective I have is rather, unique.”

Another moment of silence. The sky. The Vast. The darkness. The two figures floating up in the air. And all the problems that could plague her mind seemed to fall away with ease.

“Why do you hang out with Annabelle and the group?” She finally asked.

“It’s nice to have people that you can be around, when you feel like it, who won’t mind if you just decide to leave one day.” 

“Yea. It sure is.”

She contemplated asking him about how he’d found his way to the Vast, but decided against it for the time being, at least, until they were back on the ground.

“Um, is it alright if we go back down now?”

“Sure. Hold on.”

The vertigo was almost bearable this time.

By now the sky had grown fully dark. Back on land, Ryan bid Mike goodnight, and watched as he took off once again into the embrace of his god.

Earlier that day.

//

Ryan: Hey Annabelle, if you don’t mind, and I totally get it if this isn’t convenient, could you fill me in on what happened with Mike and the Spiral? 

Annabelle: That depends, what’s up?

Ryan: He’s invited me out for a walk. I was wondering if I should be careful about it.

If he extended an invitation I’m sure he means you no harm. I’m afraid I can’t disclose too much, but if you feel like you must know there might be a statement at the Magnus Institute that talks about it. There probably isn’t one by him though, but I can assure you it’s not something he would hold against you.

_ (Yea, I suppose it’s true that false invitations doesn’t really sound like Mike’s style) _

Ryan: Alright, thank you!

Annabelle: No problem ::::)

//

After she returned home, she opened up the chat again, and finally decided to tell Annabelle about what had happened with the Corruption avatar.

//

Annabelle: I thought something like that might have happened. That’s what some Corruption avatars can do, direct their emotions to other people, and you’re extra susceptible to that. But it’s certainly not a bad thing, and your sense of intuition has helped us a lot on our trips.

Ryan: Glad to hear that.

Annabelle: Yes, don’t worry too much about it, you’ll get the hang of it as we come across these situations more. Anything else you wanted to talk about?

_ (The Hunters…) _

Ryan: No, thanks a bunch for everything!

Annabelle: My pleasure ::::)

//

//

Ryan: Hi Gerry! Sorry to disturb, do you have time next week? I wonder if you’re up for grabbing a quick dinner together.

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of them so much.  
> Yes that is all I have to say.


End file.
